


Twintervention

by bricus27



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Texting, and Osamu suffers, but it all works out, in which Atsumu meddles, mentions of Suna’s sister, switching POV, the rest of inarizaki shows up too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bricus27/pseuds/bricus27
Summary: “And as the older person here, I feel an overwhelmin’ sense of responsibility to help ya. So that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”“‘S not any of yer business ‘Tsumu,” Osamu says with a yawn, tiredness beginning to catch up with him.“My pathetic sap of a brother has the hots for my best friend and it ain’t any of my business? Yer stupider than people take ya for.”Osamu sighs. He swears he is a good person.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116
Collections: SunaOsa





	Twintervention

**Author's Note:**

> So uhh *gestures vaguely* this happened?? I’ve had it finished for a while and only now decided to throw it on the internet. I haven’t written in what’s felt like eons, and this is my first HQ work which is exciting! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this silly thing!

The day Atsumu finds out that his brother is in love is an unsuspecting one. Atsumu misplaces his phone for the nth time in a few hours and proceeds to tear the whole house apart looking for it. Osamu refuses to help obviously, left to his own devices in the kitchen like usual. After making his second round in the living room in distress, he goes back to his shared bedroom for the third time. He briefly thinks he might have set a record for his own stupidity. 

There is no sign of his own phone but Osamu’s is charging on the desk by the wall. Atsumu, despite being stubborn as hell, gives up attempting to find the phone by himself and resorts to grabbing his brother’s phone to call his own. Could he have saved himself a lot of trouble had he done this twenty minutes ago? Yes. Is that how Atsumu works? No. 

Now, Osamu is a stickler for passwords. He likes keeping his brother at bay whenever possible with four digits of security, but Atsumu has his ways. The blond has been good about keeping the fact that he knows the four number combination a secret, only stealing his brother’s phone when absolutely necessary – which, most of the time, is for something completely unnecessary, but that’s beside the point. Osamu likes to change it whenever Atsumu even gets remotely close to his phone, so he smiles to himself when the first attempt at entering the number combination is accepted.

Atsumu was going to simply dial his number and leave it at that, but he is presented with something that catches his eye.

Upon unlocking the phone, Atsumu finds the notes app open and on display. Now this would be nothing out of the ordinary, but between the grocery lists, recipes and reminders, there is one note that sticks out from the rest. Atsumu’s eyebrows disappear behind his hair, and he blinks twice to make sure he isn't seeing things. He wouldn't have expected Osamu, of all people, to resort to this method of maintaining privacy. Secrecy in the form of locked notes? And of what, exactly? What secrets could his little brother possibly have that need the security of a flimsy password to keep them from the rest of the world? (Or an unsuspecting brother that doesn't know any better.) He doesn’t know. But boy, does he want to find out.

He retypes the password, and upon gaining access to the many lines of words splayed out on the screen, finds his eyes flitting across the characters in a desperate attempt to see what exactly his brother needs to store in the confines of the notes app. He scrolls down to see the sheer amount of secrets held in his hands, finding that there are a _lot_.

He scrolls back up to the top, expecting him to be venting about something or another, maybe complaining about Atsumu himself, or scheming. But what he finds is beyond anything he expected from his dear twin. 

Apparently… Osamu is in love.

Atsumu gapes at the phone after reading for a few minutes, and sits down on the bed to collect his thoughts. The words are so… poetic? Very un-Osamu like? But somehow they are his words all the same.

There are paragraphs upon paragraphs of his brother pouring his heart out like some lovesick fool. Well, considering he is predictable as hell and Atsumu knows every potential password he has used since birth, yes, probably a fool.

Atsumu knows he can be an annoying prick. He is the more invasive twin by default, and he has accepted it. Anyone who knows him knows he likes to pry, and push his nose into business that isn't his. But this almost feels like he is prying too much. 

After reading through the far too personal confession, Atsumu slumps on the bed. It is obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that they have something going on between them, but he is downright smitten, and over Suna? The same Suna who likes to show up barely on time for practices. The Suna that only eats appropriately sized lunches when Osamu forces him to eat something other than the obscene amount of protein bars he consumes, because he can’t be bothered to pack real food. The Suna that stands on the sidelines, taking video of the twins whenever they do anything remotely stupid. The Suna that is all sarcasm and deadpan glares. That Suna?

Atsumu supposes it makes sense, given he and Osamu are alike in more ways than one. Practically the whole team knows it, if their closeness is anything to go by. He is incredibly devoted to volleyball, even if he may seem disinterested on the court. Even when he doesn’t feel like prepping food for himself, Atsumu knows the reason he is nearly late everyday is because he makes breakfast for his little sister every morning, despite barely knowing anything past the bare essentials when it comes to food. Suna is well mannered when he needs to be, despite what his seemingly permanent ‘I don’t give two shits’ expression may lead you to believe.

But this isn't just some meaningless pining. Osamu is in deep. Really deep. Still stunned, he finds himself reading over some of the lines again. The way he writes, so heartfelt – it could just about make anyone fall in love with Suna.

There is no way he could let it go on like this.

So engrossed in what he is reading, Atsumu almost doesn't hear his brother enter the room and storm into his face until he is shouting profanities and grabbing for his phone. Atsumu looks up and yanks it back, barely dodging a smack against the back of his head.

“The hell are ya doin’?”

“Definitely not readin’ about how in love ya are with one Suna Rintarou,” he snickers.

Osamu’s eyes widen, and sheer dread is plastered all over his face.

“Give it back ya little shit!”

The two tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs, now in a fully fledged war over possession of the phone, a string of curses coming from one or the other every few seconds.

“Ya hafta tell him ‘Samu. I’m bein’ serious!” Atsumu grits, struggling to form coherent sentences with his brother’s hand squishing his cheeks.

“Keep your grubby hands to yerself, ya god damn nuisance,” he snarls in return.

Osamu becomes frantic when he sees that Astumu is spamming texts to Suna, primarily in the form of keyboard smashes. Cursing under his breath, he tries to wrangle his phone from his twin’s grasp, but it won’t give. Atsumu thrashes underneath him, attempting to break his way out of the chokehold Osamu maneuvered him into.

“Hell no! Not when yer bein’ this pathetic! I’m just tryna–”

“Hello?”

The boys stop shuffling around, and Atsumu, taking advantage of the arms around him that slackened, snatches the phone for himself.

“Hi Sunarin!” he starts, breathing heavy. “Did ya know that my brother is absolutely, incredibly gone–”

“SHUT YER TRAP!” 

“For one very specific block–”

Osamu quickly shoves his brother to the floor, an undignified yelp following. “He is bein’ an ass Suna, don't listen to him.”

“What the hell do you want Atsumu? Stop being annoying and give his phone back.”

“This is blatant favoritism!” Atsumu cries, brushing his hair from his face. “Sunarin I know ya love me too, stop pretendin’ ya don’t.”

“Nope. Never did, never will. Osamu, you can call me back when you are done,” he says, and promptly hangs up.

They boys, trying to take in what just happened, stop to stare at each other, and then turn their attention back to the phone, now neglected on the floor after Osamu slapped it from the other’s hands. Osamu swipes it, glaring daggers at his brother, huffing out a long sigh as he wipes the now fingerprint stained screen with the hem of his shirt. 

Atsumu groans. “Please just tell Suna,” he sighs, collapsing onto the floor. “If I had known ya had it this bad, I woulda done somethin’ earlier. Yer clearly head over heels, and I know ya send each other heart eyes across the court all the time. If I see it again knowin’ that's how ya really feel, I won’t hesitate to scream. I don't wanna see ya all mopey and pinin’ over each other, ya hear me?”

Osamu stays silent. He has to admit, their relationship definitely became more dynamic as of late – and thus, more obvious. It's clearer than day that Suna is close with both twins, but there is undoubtedly some unspoken thing between him and the younger. Hands that brush far too often to be accidental. Prolonged touches that leave skin warmer than they should. Glances that are too frequent to be just glances. It happens again and again, but despite the obvious comfort that comes with Suna’s presence, there is always that small shadow of a doubt that manages to wedge itself into the corners of Osamu’s mind. Something could go wrong, and ruin what they have permanently. Obviously that isn't something he is willing to risk. Against his better judgement, he constantly toes the line between friendship and something more, but always stops himself just before he attempts to cross it. With the constant back and forth, this weird grey area formed and blurred the lines of their relationship. But, it still felt plenty natural, and more than normal. So, why fix it if it ain't broke?

“And if there is anythin’ I know,” Atsumu continues, “it’s that Sunarin won't grow tired of whatever game yer playing at. So ya actually gotta do somethin’. As perceptive as the guy is, he can be a real idiot, lettin’ things drag on fer no reason. It’s like ya were made fer each other.”

Osamu raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. 

Atsumu sits up, returning his gaze, and jabs a finger to Osamu’s chest. “I will resort to twintervention,” he threatens. “I’ve done it once and I'll do it again.”

Osamu’s eyes widen a comical amount.

(Twintervention, read: Atsumu becomes way too invested in something that does not involve him, and will not, for the life of him, back down until he intervenes, getting exactly what he wants. _The nosy bastard_.)

If there is anything he has learned in the miserable time spent beside his brother, it's that twinterventions always, always end horribly.

———

Suna flops onto his bed after minutes of trying to dissect the conversation that was really a bunch of muffled cries for help on Atsumu’s part and yelling on Osamu’s part. He was having a peaceful afternoon. It was quiet. He had the house to himself after his sister went to stay over a friend’s place. But, the twins don’t even need to be physically nearby to drag people they know into their dumb antics. It’s horrifying in its own right, considering how good they are at making a mess out of everything.

But Suna doesn’t know whether to classify this as a mess or not. He isn’t oblivious. It is sort of obvious that he and Osamu have feelings for each other, but in the end they are both equal parts dumb and stupid, so neither of them do anything about it because of the nonexistent chance that something could go wrong between them. 

Well...maybe he is stupid, considering he knows this and doesn’t make a move. Maybe Atsumu is stupid for starting whatever that was. No, Atsumu is definitely stupid, but now it seems like he knows something more about their not-so-secret secret. And that comment about Suna loving Atsumu _too_? Definitely didn’t go unnoticed. So... what changed?

He takes in a deep breath and rubs into his eyes with his palms. The object of his not-so-subtle affections might like him back? Sure, no problem. Atsumu being an ass about it? Also no problem. But how the fuck is he supposed to _do_ something about it?

He aimlessly stares at his ceiling, waiting for his phone to buzz with the telltale sign of a phone call. It’s whatever. He could just wing it. Girls do it all the time, after all.

The vibrations of his phone against his mattress bring him back down to earth, and he reluctantly picks his phone up from where it is next to him on the bed. He bites at his lip, and stares at the picture of Osamu bright against the screen, eyes closed and face stuffed with onigiri. He and Atsumu were having a competition that day. Atsumu started choking on the food two minutes in before Aran told them to knock it off.

He takes a deep breath and answers the phone with all the nonchalance he could muster.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Osamu still seems breathless, and whether that is because he just finished wrestling with his brother or not, Suna isn’t sure. The tension in the air is evident, and Osamu clearly doesn't know what to say about – well, whatever just happened, so he simply doesn’t say anything.

Suna decides to feign ignorance.

“Alright. Who called who ugly this time?”

That seems to lighten the mood, and Osamu lets out a small chuckle. “He was just bein’ a little shit. Ya know how it is.”

“I’m surprised I’m still sane considering all the exposure I have to your, you know...” Suna pauses, waving his hands through the air, as if Osamu could see them. “Twin antics.”

Osamu hums. “Believe me, with the torment he puts me through, I feel the same.” He pauses and sighs. “Now I gotta change my password again. Feels like I’m doin’ this every couple weeks minimum.”

“Use a random number generator?”

There was a long silence, and Suna could almost see the incredulous look on Osamu’s face. 

“I… didn’t think of that.”

Suna laughs. “I used one to change my password when my sister took it upon herself to spam the group chat a while back, and it’s worked since.”

“Riri sent heart emojis to everyone, there were no damages done, trust me.”

“My pride was severely hurt, Miya. You underestimate her power. It’s all an act. She is a tiny menace, you hear me?”

Osamu snorts, and Suna feels a little more at ease. He figures being dumb and stupid a little while longer wouldn’t hurt anybody.

———

All Osamu wants is sleep. That’s all he is asking for.

“Soooo,” Atsumu drawls, “how’d it go with Sunarin?”

Osamu further buries himself into his pillow, wishing for nothing more than for it to swallow him whole. “It didn’t exactly ‘go’. Nothin’ happened between us. What’s it to ya anyways? Why are ya acting like ya care?”

“It's not acting!” he cries, throwing his upper body over the edge of the bed to look at his twin below. “Yer just an emotionally repressed excuse of a brother that needs to get his act together.”

Osamu swats his face with his pillow. Atsumu squeals. “Shut yer trap. Yer no better with yer ‘Omi-Omi’ this and ‘Omi-Omi’ that.”

“Rude ‘Samu! This ain’t about me.” He settles back into his top bunk, but the smile on his face remains evident from his tone. Osamu isn’t sure if it’s because of the mention of the Itachiyama spiker that he is simply “inspired by”, or because he is plotting something dangerous. 

“Considerin’ ya are still single as fuck, does that mean it’s twintervention time for real? Ya need to stop feelin’ sorry fer yerself and just confess to him already before I do it fer ya.” Ah. Plotting something dangerous it is then.

Osamu huffs out a breath. It's not like he doesn’t consider it, obviously, but he is constantly torn between keeping the consistency of what they have and daring to ask for more. It is on nights like these – in the comfortable darkness of his room – where he imagines being able to push those boundaries. He can almost feel those long, nimble fingers, worn from years of blocking the most daring of opponents, between his own. He can almost feel the intensity behind those sharp eyes, where he allows himself to get lost in them without feeling the need to avert his gaze. He can almost feel the softness of his bangs, where his hands freely run through them after a rough match. It’s too easy to imagine. His fingers would eventually slow down to trace his features, stopping along his lips – the ones that showed the slightest of smiles in the rarest of moments – to move again and trail along the subtle marks that can’t be seen from afar. A small birthmark next to the corner of his upper lip, and another on his left cheek. A small scar by his right eyebrow, from when Suna ran into a door frame when he was seven. Taking in all these things does strange things to his heart. So, Osamu more than considers it, really.

Cutting himself from his daze, he manages to catch the ending fragments of Atsumu’s bullshit ramblings.

“And as the older person here, I feel an overwhelmin’ sense of responsibility to help ya. So that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

“‘S not any of yer business ‘Tsumu,” Osamu says with a yawn, tiredness beginning to catch up with him.

“My pathetic sap of a brother has the hots for my best friend and it ain’t any of my business? Yer stupider than people take ya for.”

Osamu sighs. He swears he is a good person.

———

The next day is no better. Somehow Atsumu is able to blow the discovery out of proportion, when realistically it is nothing new. The two have obviously been close since their first year – Osamu was easily the first person Suna grew comfortable around after making the move to Hyogo. Even if it took a while to coax more than a few words from the blocker due to his impartial exterior, they were certainly drawn to each other. Regardless, Atsumu nearly made it a living hell. 

It was a whole day of variations of “who knew ya two were both softies” and “I better not hafta walk in on you two doin’ the nasty in the clubroom once ya become official”.

In short, a nightmare.

So Osamu does what any sensible person would do, and stress cooks.

Halfway between shaping a batch of onigiri, Osamu briefly considers hiding Atsumu’s phone again out of spite. Yesterday it was on top of the fridge. Maybe later he would throw it in the dishwasher or something. If he is feeling generous, he won't run the machine.

He gets a text from Suna as he is wrapping the last one, so he washes his hands and grabs his phone and plate, and opens his messages with Suna once he sits himself down at the table.

Suna: she stole my pocky. she stole my pocky Osamu.

Suna: it must've happened yesterday before she left

Suna: she probably ate it already and thinks pocky is all i’m good for. i mean nothing to her.

Osamu: Lmaoo ya need to hide them better

Suna: this is the third time this month that she is getting away with it

Suna: she is out to get me, i’ll forever be hungry with her around

Osamu: I just made some onigiri if ya wanna come over

Suna: oh yess

Suna: i’m gonna put up some wanted posters then i'll leave

Osamu: Imagine letting yer siblings take yer food

Osamu: Couldn't be me 

Suna: ಠ_ಠ

Suna: rude

Suna: i’m on my way now

Osamu looks down at his outfit, the shirt he slept in and a pair of sweats, and promptly decides he should probably look the tiniest bit more presentable. He moves upstairs to his room, and finds Atsumu on his phone, laying on his stomach on the top bunk. The blond looks away from his screen upon hearing him enter, and rests his chin in his palms.

“Goin’ somewhere?”

Osamu takes off his shirt and reaches for a different one in the closet, and looks to his brother.

“Nah, Suna is comin’ over.”

At that, Osamu hardly has time to question the small chant of a “yes” he hears from his brother before he bounds to the floor, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. Osamu just barely tugs the shirt over his head before his shoulders are frantically being shaken.

“Confess! Yer confessin’ right?”

Osamu smacks him across the head. “No, he’s just comin’ over. Don’t make it weird,” he chides. “Yer not allowed to meddle.”

Atsumu whines in protest. “C’mon yer no fun.” He crosses his arms. “Remember what I said about–”

“Twintervention, yeah,” Osamu says, rolling his eyes. “And I don’t wanna hear another word of it.”

Osamu turns to leave, but Atsumu grabs him by the wrist, expression going serious. “Wait, ‘Samu,” he says, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

He turns around, confused at the sudden change of tone. “What?”

“Just…” he pauses, and then meets Osamu in the eye. “Use protection, okay?”

Osamu shoves Atsumu to the floor and throws his pajama shirt at his face, a stream of curses flying from his mouth while his cheeks turn a bright shade of red. He angrily stomps away, leaving Atsumu on the floor, cackling with tears streaming down his face.

———

Suna lets himself into the Miya house as he always does and announces his entrance, sliding off his shoes in the genkan, only to stop in his tracks once he sees Osamu seated at the table. 

“Why do you look like a kicked puppy?”

Osamu gives a noncommittal shrug, and continues to eat.

Suna shakes his head with a fond sigh. “I thought I came here to eat my feelings, but I guess you beat me to it.” He walks over to sit next to Osamu, who slides the plate over.

“I take it you added more filling this time?” Suna asks, picking one up to examine it.

“Just how ya like it, yeah.”

They talk back and forth about various things, simply enjoying each other’s company. Easy afternoons like this are all Suna can ask for, really. It's comfortable, conversation comes naturally, and some gentle smiles are passed back and forth between smart remarks. It’s a nice change of pace from their usually frantic lives.

Soon enough they polish off all the onigiri and Osamu is definitely talking more. Suna still marvels at just how much his mood is swayed when food is involved. 

He considers what threw him in the slump in the first place, and his mind immediately recalls yesterday’s conversation. Osamu seemed so apprehensive when he answered the phone, and Suna can’t grasp just how unreasonable the whole ordeal is.

He isn’t exactly the most... subtle about his affections, but it seems that they go right over Osamu’s head. But now that Suna really truly _knows_ , thanks to the meddling of one annoying brother, he feels less hesitant about pushing his luck.

While Osamu rambles about something or another, Atsumu bounds down the stairs just in time to interrupt Suna’s thinking. He walks over to where the two are sitting with an overly obvious spring in his step, and hooks his arms around the shoulders of the two boys, sending Suna a knowing smirk.

“Hey Sunarin! Fancy seeing ya here. To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Osamu’s glare is near murderous, and Suna needs to stifle a laugh. He looks towards the plate with a few lone grains of rice on it. “That.”

Atsumu makes an offended noise, and looks at his brother with wide eyes.

“Ya couldn’t spare me any?”

Osamu looks at him with disgust written all over his features. “Why would I? I don’t like ya, asshole.”

Atsumu is about to make some snide remark, but he closes his mouth and opts for a different approach, the intent to humiliate obvious with the glint in his eyes.

“Wow ‘Samu, you like _Sunarin_ and not me?” he says exasperatedly, emphasizing his words. “I am very hurt.”

The gray haired boy shoves him from his shoulders, and Atsumu barks out a laugh. As he makes his way back to the stairs, his eyes don’t leave Osamu, and at the top of the staircase he gives a quick thumbs up and flashes a stupid looking grin before dashing off.

Suna needs to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. At this point he finds it near impossible to talk Atsumu out of getting on his brother’s nerves and butting into his business, especially when it elicits the kinds of reactions that it does.

The sight of an overtly embarrassed Osamu truly deserves to be framed. His ears are red, cheeks puffed out in anger, and lips drawn into a tight line. It’s really cute.

Suna would rather not have to deal with the complaints of just how shitty of a twin Atsumu is, and decides now is just as good a time as any to address it. It couldn't get more obvious anyway.

He looks at Osamu, and sees the boy who took time out of his day to write about him, him of all people. Suna never even had time to consider himself worthy of being written about, let alone in the way that Osamu did. And to think that Osamu is doubtful, Osamu isn’t sure that he deserves Suna in that way. Suna should be the one feeling like that, if anything. 

“I know, Osamu.”

The boy looks up from where he has his head in his hands. “Know... what?”

Suna recalls familiar words, ones that caused his own heart to stutter upon first seeing them. They were just as good a declaration as any then, and Suna figures they will work just as well now – so he repeats them under his breath, interrupting the delicate silence between them.

“I wonder sometimes,” he says, his monotonous voice filling the air.

The boy next to him looks to the blocker, and draws his eyebrows together, looking for Suna to continue.

Suna gives him a small smile and meets him in the eye. “I wonder what it would be like to cross that line and be selfish, if only for a minute, because every minute with him – with you – is worth it.”

Osamu freezes on the spot and Suna knows that he knows. The familiar words register, and Suna sees confusion morph into fear, and fear into disbelief. 

“Rin,” Osamu says, barely a whisper.

A moment passes between them, and Osamu is just staring – staring at Suna’s sharp eyes that seem to know a lot more than they give away.

“You’ve been incredibly stupid, you know. Letting the smallest of things get in your way. That’s not the Osamu I know.”

He just sits there cluelessly, trying and failing to connect the dots, and find out why and how he knows those very words. Suna puts his chin in his hands, looking at Osamu expectantly. He tries to remain calm, as to not let his expression falter, but with the way Osamu’s eyes are looking into his, he makes it rather difficult.

“What?”

Suna rolls his eyes. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?” he sighs.

“I– spell out what?”

He sits up uncharacteristically straight and turns his body to face Osamu. He looks into those cool eyes, and the words just start spilling from his mouth. 

“The Osamu I know is straightforward, and hates wasting time. He is stubborn as hell and knows what he wants, and when he does, it’s near impossible to change his mind about it. He will chase after what he wants tirelessly, because, why shouldn’t he have it?”

Suna looks to Osamu’s hands, tightly clasped together on the table, and then to his own in his lap.

“So, can you imagine how incredibly stupid it is when the boy who has only ever chased turns to you, someone who has been anything but subtle, and is suddenly scared to hit the ground running”

Osamu takes in a sharp breath, and slowly reaches to grab Suna’s hand. Words fail him, so he gives Suna’s hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Rin, I…ya know that... I–” 

“I know, ‘Samu. I’ve known for what has felt like forever, but considering neither of us were looking to rush anything, I didn’t do anything about it.” He hesitates and bites his lip. “I don’t think any of it was a mistake. But if you have any doubts then we don’t actually need to do anything, and–”

Osamu cuts him off, tugging him into a tight embrace. 

Suna’s eyes are blown wide, his expression more freely shown now that Osamu can’t see his face. He slowly tries to calm his rapidly beating heart by taking in a deep breath, and carefully wraps his arms around Osamu’s torso, relaxing into the touch. 

“I’m so so sorry Rin. I was so busy worryin’ that I didn’t even stop to consider I was bein’ stupid. I’ve wanted this fer a long time but I just… couldn’t risk anythin’. Thought maybe I’d end up chasin’ ya away or somethin’…”

Suna lets out a shaky breath. “You did nothing wrong. I guess both of us were scared of fucking up.”

Osamu nods, chin digging into Suna’s shoulder. They sit there for another while longer, just holding each other, before Osamu breaks away to cup Suna’s face in his hands. His smile is warm and bright, and any doubts in Suna’s mind are long gone. 

“Have ya ever considered that only reason I stopped chasin’ was because sometimes I needed to stop and admire just how amazin’ ya are?” 

The brown haired boy lets out a small laugh, and gives the other boy’s shoulder a light shove.

“Ew, you are not being cheesy right now.”

“I’m gonna be cheesy, Rin. You shoulda known that already.”

He rolls his eyes in return, clearly fighting a smile with upturned lips. The tension in the air quickly fades, and Suna moves to wrap his hands around Osamu’s wrists. “I guess I should apologize about the invasion of privacy, even though it’s definitely Atsumu’s fault.”

Osamu groans at the reminder, moving away from Suna to hide his own red cheeks in his hands.

“That’s so embarassin’ Rin,” he whines, words muffled by his palms. “He ruins everythin’.”

Suna pulls Osamu’s hands from his face, and intertwines his fingers with his own. His hands are rough, to be expected from a spiker like him, but there is a definite gentleness in the way that his fingers rest between Suna’s knuckles. 

“He might’ve helped a teeny bit but he doesn’t need to know that.”

“We’d never hear the end of it.” 

“I made him promise to stay out of the way because he sort of knew beforehand, but when he found the note I guess he decided it was reason enough to butt in. This morning he only sent me the first paragraph as a nudge in the right direction, so I fully expect to see the rest later.”

Osamu scoffs. “How the hell did he send them to ya?”

“He probably sent them to himself yesterday and then forwarded them to me. I mean I would have done the same, that’s prime blackmailing material right there.”

Osamu gives him a look and shakes his head. A small silence passes between them, and Osamu takes that opportunity to lead Suna over to the couch, right into his arms. 

“Yer only seein’ the rest over my dead body. I need compensation fer my embarrassment. C’mere.”

Suna chuckles, and easily complies. He throws his legs over Osamu’s lap, and leans into his shoulder in a comforting embrace. 

After a moment of cuddling, Suna has an idea. “Just how much compensation are we talking? I have something in mind.”

Osamu looks down to the boy, fully aware of the implications of that statement. Suna looks incredibly sure of himself, smug even, and Osamu takes it as a challenge. 

He inches forward slowly, and Suna’s breath hitches in his throat as Osamu stops right as their lips are about to meet. Suna can hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears and realizes just how quickly Osamu can make him lose composure. Suna closes the remaining distance between them, eyes fluttering shut. 

Osamu’s lips are warm and full, and his kisses are soft – a little unsure – but it is everything Suna could ever ask for. 

Suna kisses back slowly and plays with the short hair at the nape of Osamu’s neck, coaxing a delighted hum from the other teen. He really wishes he would have done this sooner.

Osamu’s hand finds Suna’s waist, and he pulls the boy even closer, relishing in the small gasp it elicits from the younger. He takes this opportunity to kiss Suna more passionately, gently nibbling at the lower lip, and soothing it with his tongue. Suna distantly hears his phone buzz across the room, but with all his other senses in overdrive, barely registers the sound, instead feeding into the tender kisses. But it sounds off again. And again. Osamu, distracted by the noise, pulls away, but is barely able to catch his breath before Suna lets out an angry huff at the loss of contact, and greedily tugs Osamu’s collar to capture his lips on his own once again.

Suna kisses with fervor, but his phone. Won’t. Shut. Up.

Suna, trying and failing to ignore the loud dings echoing through the living room, kisses him again and again, as if his brashness would somehow make it stop, and Osamu can't help but laugh at his frustrations. He pulls away, and Suna’s clear pout only makes the situation that much funnier.

“Rin, just go get it,” he chuckles, taking in the flush of his cheeks along with the pout on his kiss swollen lips. Osamu caresses his cheek before ushering the other boy off of him.

“Someone better be dying or something,” he grumbles, reluctantly getting up to fetch his phone from the table. “The hell could they possibly be talking about right now…” Suna mutters, shuffling back over to the couch to sit on Osamu’s lap. He leans into his chest, and opens the conversation. The arms that circle around his waist only quell his murderous intent by the slightest bit.

Osamu places chin on Suna’s shoulder, laughing. “Yer cute when yer angry.”

A long silence follows and Suna furrows his eyebrows. “Do I have permission to kill Atsumu?”

Osamu lifts his head up and tries to read Suna’s expression. “Typically I’d say yes right away, but care explainin’ why?”

Suna turns the phone to Osamu, and his eyes move back and forth, reading the conversation. His eyes suddenly widen, and his mouth falls open in surprise.

“They had a bet goin’?”

“I’m gonna k word him Osamu.”

Osamu shifts Suna off his lap, and grabs the phone to read the conversation for himself.

“And they were all in on it too?”

“Atsumu definitely started it. And all the shit he’s been putting us through? Just so he’d win the stupid bet.”

Osamu huffs out a breath. “And now that ass is sittin’ upstairs, thinkin’ he’s hot shit. Nuh uh.”

Suna hums and taps a finger against his chin. “Honestly, let him think he’s hot shit now, we’ll just knock his ego down a few pegs later. For the time being though…” He shifts closer to Osamu and takes his phone from the other’s hands to hold it up, and Suna grabs his chin, pulling him into a kiss. He captures multiple images of the two of them, with Suna smiling against Osamu’s lips in every one. He pulls away, delighted to find a light blush dusting Osamu’s cheeks. “I’d like to show off my new boyfriend, thank you very much.” He types out a response to the group chat, smiling to himself.

If Atsumu is going to be smug over making it happen, then Suna is just going to show off the fruits of Atsumu’s labor to an obnoxious degree.

Suna shows Osamu the phone, who hits the send button, both of them snickering.

It’s perfect.

———

Atsumu: [view sent attachment]

Atsumu: they are definitely gonna be swappin’ spit any minute now

Atsumu: yep, they are professin’ their love as we speak ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Akagi: FUK YEAHH

Akagi: pAy up losers!!!

Gin: dammit

Oomimi: We really underestimated them huh...

Kita: Were ya just casually eavesdroppin’ the whole time?

Aran: I really thought it would take longer T-T

Aran: What happened?

Atsumu: Kita-san i did no such thing

Atsumu: it got sappy halfway through so i stopped listenin’ but

Atsumu: they are together now and doin’ gross couple things so that’s a win fer me and akagi!!

Akagi: mmm spicy

Kita: Atsumu definitely meddled

Atsumu: Kita-saaaaan

Atsumu: do you have such little faith in me

Aran: Yes

Ginjima: Yes

Oomimi: Is that allowed?

Ginjima: I would like my money back please and thank you

Akagi: but!!! was there an explicit no meddling rule??

Atsumu: i think not 

Atsumu: twintervention always wins hehe

Aran: Do not “hehe” ever again please that’s nightmare fuel

Ginjima: I hate it here

Atsumu: i love ya too Gin ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Akagi: many thanks for fundin’ my need for food, i appreciate y’all

Ginjima: At least the awkward sexual tension will be no more

Aran: Trueee

Atsumu: i take it back, they are still bein’ gross and i just want access to the fridge

Aran: Kinda sounds like a you problem

Suna: [view 7 sent attachments]

Suna: speaking of food

Suna: i was having a fine dining experience before you guys interrupted me so Atsumu you better watch yourself :)

Akagi: oHH-

Akagi: they kinda cute

Atsumu: ew :/ 

Atsumu: finally takin’ yer heads outta yer assess huh

Kita: Congrats :)

Kita: Not the time Atsumu...

Aran: Congrats guys!!!

Ginjima: This is the only instance where I am okay with losing a bet

Suna: thank you

Atsumu: can’t believe i didn't get a yer welcome

Osamu: Dipshit yer not gettin’ a yer welcome

Suna: you did nothing

Atsumu: i very much did somethin’

Osamu: Yeah, ya very much made me wish I ate ya in the womb

Oomimi: …

Atsumu: i was planned, ya weren’t :)

Akagi: i am very uncomfortable with the energy that we have created in the studio today

Aran: I pretend I do not see it

Aran: Shinsuke definitely muted the chat at this point haha

Atsumu: twintervention is real, bitch

Osamu: It’s a real pain in the ass that's what it is

Suna: oh shit retweeting right now

Atsumu: i try to do somethin’ good and this is the thanks i get

Suna: lmao Osamu you hear sumn?

Atsumu: i’m never tryin’ again

Suna: good ♥

Osamu: Good

Aran: PFFT

Ginjima: Oh–

Akagi: holy shit those assholes are made for each other

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh thank you for reading!!! I may or may not have gotten this idea because I am also the hopeless romantic type that writes about crushes in locked notes... and these notes may or may not have been compromised before... BUT! This was so fun to write, and I think I’m getting back into the swing of writing things. I would be super appreciative of you left kudos or a comment! Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!
> 
> Scream about Sunaosa with me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/bricus27) Or about anything haikyuu related haha
> 
> Also I made my own [art](https://twitter.com/bricus27/status/1370365266060840960) to go along with the fic hahaha


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